


Prelude

by Sekiraku



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boats and Ships, Human Sacrifice, M/M, Master/Slave, Vampire Bites, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 02:11:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20649500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sekiraku/pseuds/Sekiraku
Summary: The drabble that led to my story 'Sacrifice.'





	Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Five years ago my friend and I plotted out an extremely complex web comic, with half a dozen separate plotlines spanning multiple continents and characters and all culminating in an epic final battle. As she's since deemed this an overly ambitious project, I've acquired permission to muck about with it in prose form (on account of I can only draw stick people, and OOTS has cornered the overly complex stick figure-epic market :P ).
> 
> If there's any interest in Antony and Hanyu, I'll go back to the beginning of their plotline and write up their entire story. I might do the same for the other characters as well, though they'd each get a separate series. Let me know if any of that piques your interest!

Hanyu’s stomach leapt and squeezed until it seemed to be spinning inside him. Impossible to tell how much came from the unfamiliar swaying of the ship beneath him, and how much came from his own shredded nerves. 

He knew he was lucky. Of course he did. To be chosen for personal service by a lord among the gods was an honor beyond anything he’d ever dared to dream. Every time he thought of that smoothly accented voice, the thrillingly casual command- _“That one.”_ – he felt tight and trembly all over, and utterly determined to do well. He would hate to disappoint his god- shit, it was probably blasphemy to be possessive like that, wasn’t it? __

_ __ _

_ __ _

The time stretched, and Hanyu couldn’t resist the temptation to sit back on his heels and examine his surroundings. The room was hard to see as a ship’s cabin, despite the constant slight rocking. It seemed far too permanently settled for that. Certainly everything was very firmly fixed to its place, probably to keep it steady during storms. The bright paintings and tapestries on every wall were fastened along each edge with dozens of little gold tacks, and the gleaming gold sconces on the wall looked solid enough that Hanyu felt he could have swung on them. From where he knelt, he could see that the legs of the sofa were firmly bolted to the floor as well. Somehow, the effect of the room was much more understated than the temple back home, though each individual item was obviously much finer than anything the temple could boast.

Over his shoulder, so that he had to twist to get a decent look, there was a finely carved door. It was open just a crack, and through it Hanyu could see a large shape- perhaps a bed? Was that the god’s bedchamber? The sconces weren’t lit, so it was hard to see clearly. Beyond the bed, something else- a bookshelf, maybe? 

Hanyu was still twisting on his knees, straining for a better look, when the cabin door pushed open. The hinges didn’t even creak. If he hadn’t caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, he wouldn’t have even noticed the god’s return.

Hanyu’s stomach imploded, and he dropped back into his formal bow so hastily that when his forehead hit the floor, it was with an audible thud. 

He crouched there as wave after wave of apprehension rolled through him. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ Had he displeased the god with his nosiness? His clumsiness? His overdue bow? But after a crushing moment, he heard a low chuckle.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Look up, pet. Let me see your face.”

There was that voice again, just as smooth and rich and authoritative. Not displeased, just amused. And calling him ‘pet!’ That had to be good. 

“Yes, my lord.” Hanyu pushed up and leaned back on his heels, childishly eager both to show off his obedience and to finally see what his god looked like- still blasphemy, dammit!

The god was much shorter than he’d expected, and slender as well, but there was easy authority in every line of his relaxed stance and the coolly possessive silver gaze that settled on Hanyu. Yes, silver eyes- too pale and bright to be gray- set in the darkest face Hanyu had ever seen. A long, slightly crooked nose, and below that thin lips, pulled into a smirk. The god’s brows were silvery-white like his eyes, rather startling against the darkness of his skin, and his hair was the same. It was pulled into an elaborate braid that trailed far down his back.

His god was pretty, Hanyu decided, and he was so pleased by this discovery that he didn’t even notice the blasphemous possessive tense in his thoughts this time.

~

This was always Antony’s favorite part of a new cycle. He enjoyed stepping onto dry land when they disembarked, he enjoyed the candlelit parades and the adoring crowds, he certainly enjoyed all the posturing and playacting of being gods for a few days, and choosing his new plaything was lovely. But finding that plaything waiting for him in his cabin was far and away the best part.

He’d chosen on a whim this time. Usually he simply selected the biggest sacrifice, and certainly this boy was big. No doubt he’d tower over Antony if they stood next to one another, and his muscles were clearly defined under all that sun-drenched skin. But that was true of all the sacrifices, and this boy hadn’t been the largest. No, what had caught Antony’s eye was his tumble of thick golden hair. It would look just perfect in his sitting-room with all its golden accents, in the torchlight, and Antony had been in a mood for painting lately. So he’d made his choice, and ordered that the torches in his cabin be lit when the sacrifice was delivered, even though he didn’t need them. He’d been choreographing the scene in his head ever since: he would enter, and there would be his new plaything, molten gold in the firelight, a perfect match for the frames of the paintings and the sconces and…

What he didn’t expect was to find his sacrifice sitting up on his knees, trying to peek into Antony’s bedchamber.

For an instant, Antony wavered on the edge of anger. This was not what he had been envisioning, and if the sacrifice was a snoop, that could get irritating quickly. However, the graceless haste of the boy’s rush to get into position and the noisy thump of his forehead hitting the floor drew a reluctant chuckle from Antony. There was something amusing and artless about it, and anyhow, he found he didn’t really feel like being angry.

“Look up, pet.” He’d given up asking for names centuries ago. “Let me see your face.”

“Yes, my lord.” The sacrifice’s swift obedience was expected. What Antony did not expect was to be met with the widest, whitest, blithest grin he had seen since- well, it was no use trying to think when he was being blinded. The boy looked as if he’d never been as genuinely thrilled by anything in his life as this one simple order. Was he off in the head? Surely they wouldn’t dare.

“You’re certainly…. eager.” Antony wasn’t sure he’d been entirely successful in veiling his mild surprise.

“Of course, my lord,” the sacrifice burbled. “I- may I say something, my lord?”

The grin dimmed itself, closing as the boy bit his lip nervously, but the eyes stayed wide and eager.

“Go ahead.” Probably Antony was being overindulgent, but he’d never had the urge to terrify the creatures. There was quite enough begging and screaming when they captured a ship. Frankly, he found Marcus and the others almost as crass for their pleasure in the sacrifices’ fear as for their filthy habit of fucking the things. 

At his permission, the grin popped out again.

“Thank you, my lord!” the boy chirped. “I wanted to thank you for choosing me for your personal attendant, my lord. I promise you won’t regret it!”

This impassioned little speech poured from a face alight with happy awe. Antony was now quite sure that this sacrifice was odd. Certainly he was accustomed to submission, but this boy’s submission was cheerful and artless and radiated from his face with an almost irritating intensity.

Usually Antony liked to draw out this first encounter, but today he decided against it. He would drink, the boy would be frightened, and then he would start acting like a normal sacrifice. Antony flickered over to the spot where his new plaything knelt, deliberately moving far faster than a human could. No luck. If anything, the boy looked more delighted and adoring than he had before.

“Are you ready to serve?” he demanded, stepping behind the sacrifice.

“Of course, my lord!” 

Antony tangled his fingers in the sacrifice’s hair and tugged his head back, perhaps not as gently as he could have done. The boy gasped, and his dark lashes fluttered wildly against his cheeks. Antony’s eyes flicked downwards as the boy swallowed, making the long, pale feast of his throat move bewitchingly. Antony stooped and (carefully, carefully, it wouldn’t do to damage his toy on the very first night) let his fangs push through the tender flesh, then began to suck.

When the sacrifice’s blood flooded his mouth, Antony’s moan of bliss drowned out the boy’s soft, surprised whimper. This sacrifice’s blood was exquisite. Rich and complex, with subtle strains of flavor rippling in and out of each other too quickly to seize on just one. Best he’d had in years. Antony swallowed, then eagerly gulped down another mouthful, and another. _Pace yourself, Antony._ He took one final, deep draft, then held it in his mouth a moment longer to savor the taste, swilling the thick heat over his tongue. Finally, regretfully, he swallowed, pulled back, and looked at the boy.__

_ _He was still smiling. However, it wasn’t the same blinding grin as before. This smile was close-mouthed and a little shaky at the edges. Satisfaction pooled in Antony’s stomach, almost as warm as his wonderful meal._ _

_ _Then the boy’s eyes popped open. He met Antony’s gaze, and the grin was back, completely undimmed._ _

_ _“Thank you, my lord!” he said cheerfully. “Did I do all right? What can I do next?”_ _

_ _Antony had to let go of the sacrifice’s hair or he feared he might rip the boy’s head off in his frustration._ _

_ _“You’re not… surprised?” he asked, trying to keep his tone level. _ _

_ _The sacrifice shrugged. “For a minute? But then I remembered, most places give their gods blood.”_ _

_ _Antony could have screamed. “But wasn’t it painful?”_ _

_ _The boy’s smile brightened, if that was even fucking possible._ _

_ _“I don’t mind, my lord, it’s not so bad,” he said reassuringly. “Thank you so much for your concern! You’re very kind, my lord!”_ _

_ _It had been a very long time since Antony had been capable of headaches. Even so, he could have sworn he felt one coming on. _ _

_ _He straightened and turned away from that adoring gaze, having to resist the urge to stomp as he crossed the room to retrieve the healing salve and bandages he’d had set out. He crouched down beside the boy and examined his neck wounds. Two small holes, perfectly neat and even. Good. Blood was trickling from them slowly, and Antony leaned in to lick it up, his tongue swiping up the length of the sacrifice’s neck. He studiously ignored the soft, pleased moan that rumbled through that throat and applied the salve, then bound it up to keep any more precious drops from escaping._ _

_ _“I’m going to be biting you again,” he said sternly, pulling back to meet the boy’s eyes. _ _

_ _The sacrifice nodded eagerly, barely wincing when the movement pulled at his bite marks. “Of course, my lord! Whenever you like! What can I do for you next?”_ _

_ _Definitely a headache. Perhaps it was something like pain in a phantom limb._ _

_ _“Go into the bedchamber. You’ll see a pallet beside the bed. Bring it out here.”_ _

_ _He wasn’t going to swap this boy out for one of the others, not with the way his blood tasted. But he'd be damned if he was going to try to sleep with that much good cheer next to his bed. It would probably give him daymares._ _


End file.
